The TwentyFirst Century
by Mademoiselle Aurelie
Summary: Tessa Smith was a normal, albeit slightly cynical and sarcastic American teenage girl, minding her own business. Until she was drugged and kidnapped, forced into a secret worldwide plan. Rated for language.


Heyyyy! It's been a long while since I'm actually written something serious, so I promise for this to get progressively better (hopefully). R&R, please! I'm always open to critique/compliments.

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Do you know what paranoia is? Paranoia has many different forms. It's a side-effect of guilt. It's a feeling you get when you're working on something really important. It's a way to vent frustration when you're forced to partake in something you don't really want to do. You get it when you're sick or injured and things are going wrong.

Paranoia is that creeping feeling that sinks its claws into you when someone is staring at you. It crawls up your spine and makes your blood run cold. You want to turn and look at the person staring at you, but either fear or annoyance keeps you from moving. Your skin prickles and you chew your lips or run your fingers through your hair. Finally, it drives you over the edge and you spin around to confront the senseless creeper that has taken a keen interest in you.

My name is Tessa Smith, or just Tess, and I'm about kick someone's ass. The past week has been paranoia. No matter where I go, I get that infuriating feeling, like I'm being watched. Even when I _sleep_. It's so obnoxious and every time I look to see who was being a stalker, there's no one there! It's driving me insane!

That feeling was still following me when I unlocked the front door to my house. I just got home from school and the house was dark. Mom and Dad wouldn't be home, and Sara, my older sister, is probably in Columbus with her boyfriend. Great, I'm alone. That makes me feel so much better.

As soon as I got in the door, a sleek, black Mercedes Benz pulled up in front of my house. I turned and looked out the storm door. That is one sexy car… The weak, early-spring sunlight was gleaming off of it, and now two men in black suits with black sunglasses on. Oh shit, should I be scared?

I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch as the men came up the stairs. They're tall and stern-looking and scary and- "Hey, can I help you?" I asked.

And here come the badges and IDs. I gave them a scrutinizing look. H-holy crap…CIA agents. I turned a guarded gaze to the two men as they introduced themselves. "Are you Tessa Smith?" they asked simultaneously.

"Yes, that would be me, though I'm curious as to why the CIA is asking _me_ questions," I responded. I've watched a lot of police shows, and I've figured out that they get suspicious when you act nervous or extremely curious.

"You need to come with us to the capital." Uh, okay. Did Sara get in trouble or something? And why would they need to take her little sister to Columbus if the CIA is involved? This makes no sense. One of the agents stepped aside and gestured for me to follow the other agent. Best to comply than fight…

"Why am I going to Columbus? Why not my parents? If my sister got in trouble, I shouldn't be the one going," I reasoned, yet still finding myself going back down the stairs. Oh shit, what about the door?

One of the agents doubled-back just as I thought about that and entered my house. Yeah, go right on in. I don't care if an absolute stranger's in my house… The other one murmured something into his earpiece. Then he gave me a blank look. "The capital of the nation, miss."

After that is a bit of a blur. I remember trying to go back into my house, shouting about the stupidity that is their common sense. I also remember resorting to brute force when they tried to grab me and drag me to the car. Last thing I remember was being held down to the floor a huge ass needle being shoved into my neck.

Why are they taking me to Washington D.C. again?

--

The thick cloud of sleep that was stuffed in my brain was clearing away. I slowly opened my eyes, only to find blurry vision and a ceiling. A sudden, booming pain presented itself in place of that drowsy cloud in my head. I pulled a hand out from under the covers and pressed my palm to my forehead. Wait…

I sat up shakily, eyes wide. This is _not_ my room.

I don't know if it was the drug I was injected with that made me hallucinate or if I was really in a huge bedroom that looks like Bill Gates would own. It was somewhat modern, but had touches of American colonial- what the hell, it's nice. I've no idea on decorating stuff.

Either way, I'm in a room that is not mine and I was just drugged by CIA agents.

First priority is to get the hell out of here and find a phone. So I did something stupid.

I jumped out of the bed and landed on my feet, yes, but the drug was still in affect! I wobbled side-to-side a bit before catching myself on the edge of the bed. Everything is spinning right about now. Thankfully, it only lasted a moment. I started off for the door, taking slow, light steps. That's it… Just quietly inch toward the exit…

Aaaaand then the door swings open abruptly. I nearly jump out of my skin and end up falling over, smacking my elbow square on the wooden floor. The newcomer gets an earful of swears as I scramble backwards and claw myself back up on the bed. Turning my head toward them, I glare venomously. I stop short when I finally get a good look at the man.

I think I may still be asleep, because a very _very_ familiar character from my favorite anime stood in the doorway. A lop-sided grin was stretched across his face as two sparkling blue orbs shone behind a pair of glasses. His blonde hair framed his face in a sort of wild style, a single cowlick bouncing slightly as he moved into the room came from a part in his bangs.

"Oh, hey! You're awake!" he chimed. "The name's Alfred F. Jones. You're Tessa, right?"

Something possessed me to pick up a lamp on a cute little table beside me, yank it from the wall, and beam it at Alfred. With a short yell, Alfred leapt out of its way and winced as it shattered against a wall in the hallway. "Hey, don't go breaking my stuff! You gotta live here, too, y'know!"

What the shitting fuck did he just say?

"Who the hell are you and where am I?!" I shrieked.

Alfred looked confused, as if the answer should be common sense. "I already told you-"

"There is no way the Alfred F. Jones from Axis Powers Hetalia is real and where am I?!"

"You're in D.C. and I'm standing right here. How can I not be real if you're screaming at me like some deranged psychopath?" Alfred raised an eyebrow questioningly.

I can't believe this. There just isn't any logical reason that I can think of for _the_ Alfred f. Jones to be real. This goes beyond any sensible explanation. Mind. Blown.

"Did you or the anime come first?" Okay, stupid question. The United States is about 233 years old and Axis Powers Hetalia came out almost literally a year ago. HM, I WONDER…

Al seemed to catch onto the stupidity that was my question and started laughing. Thanks. Just rub it in, jerk.

As he was distracted, I leapt from the bed and pranced across the room. Al came around and gasped, trying to grab hold of me. I slipped past him and darted down the hall, shards of porcelain cracking under my shoes.

Alfred's house is _beautiful_. I stand and gape over the balcony in the hall at the huge front room. My awe is cut short when Alfred began to race after me and I made a beeline down the huge staircase.

As I looked up to admire a small chamdelier, I slipped.

I _slipped_.

I prefer to say that I'm testing gravity. Damn, it still works.

The way I slopped was wonderous. Only the heel of my foot made contact with the next step, therefore making me panic and lean back to catch myself. Too mad my heel proceeded to slip off of the step, sending my feet outward.

So I was about to land square on my spine on hard oak steps. Brilliant.

But Alfred intervened. He grabbed my elbow and lifted me up like a ragdoll. I blinked as my heels idly smacked the edge of the stairs.

After a few awkward moment of silence, Alfred lowered me to the steps. There is no way in hell even a bodybuilder could hold up a…some amount of pounds teenage girl by the elbow. Alfred casually descended past me, smiling quietly to himself.

"Want some Coke?"

I blinked again and numbly followed.

"Sure, Al…"


End file.
